


here's to surviving

by AppleJuice (capolleon)



Series: 6 weeks [4]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, apollo has feelings okay, calypso honestly is the best person here, i guess, i think the relationships are more implied than anything, injuries, meg is low key traumatized, when will festus make it out alive, when will i capitalize my titles, when will i write a proper action scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-20 03:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10654437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capolleon/pseuds/AppleJuice
Summary: In which Apollo ignores his concussion, Calypso kicks Nero in the shins, Leo has an arrow in his butt, and Meg sleeps for most of the adventure.





	here's to surviving

**Author's Note:**

> i feel invalidated to even attempt an action scene, so it would be really helpful if you tell me how i did??? thank you
> 
> holla @ chars for editing 2 pages. but also you're kind of a chicken shit cause the total length was literally like 6x that :^)
> 
> disclaimer: i do not own pjo and/or any of its characters

Apollo’s breathing is labored as he shifts his hold on the unconscious Meg. Blood beads down from his hair, but he feels a sense of adrenaline coursing through his veins. His world keeps spinning wildly, and he’s positive he has a concussion. All in all, it's quite possible the only reason why he’s still running is to protect the girl in his arms.

Next to him, Leo’s cursing and throwing mints at the nicely dressed emperors

“Even Lifesavers can’t fix your nasty breath, you geezers!” Leo yells. He doesn’t look nearly as tired as Apollo feels, but Leo  _is_ a demigod. Apparently, they all live for the rush.

All Apollo wants to do is  _live_.

“Turn here.” Leo directs, running with Apollo down the long corridors of the undergrounds of Indiana. The abandoned subways are eerie looking, but provide coverage and potential places for traps.

“How much longer?” Apollo’s muscles ache and his legs feel like noodles. Meg isn’t exactly the lightest child either. She’s still unconscious and relatively unharmed, except for her cracked lens and a few scratches. The blood covering her is not hers- it's a mix of Apollo’s and Nero’s. The Emperor’s blood adds only a tinge of golden ichor.

“Calypso should be with Festus with the medical supplies open, just ahead,” Leo says. His legs are fast, but his hands are working even faster. Wires and metal scraps pulling together to create a small device. “This should slow them down though.”

“What is it?” Apollo just barely manages to hop over the train tracks zigzagging across the ground. He doesn’t know if they will electrify him by touch and doesn’t want to risk it. The dark blue of the tiled walls are cracked and crumbling onto the ground. His vision is a bit blurry as he races with Leo through the subway.

Leo looks like a grasshopper as he throws down pointy looking jacks from his toolbelt. “A bomb. Just hope we get out before it sets off. This place will just collapse and cave us in.”

 _"GET THEM!”_ A scream comes from behind, and the sound of Nero’s army comes hounding after them. Apollo wishes he could have his hands free to defend himself. How pathetic, to die protecting this mortal. Not heroic at all, and he must look like such a mess! The pop culture magazine _Aphro!_ would hang it’s head down in shame to see this disaster.

He could see the headlines now, as his sister would be snickering with her little cute posse of girls-who-hate-Apollo. _SUN GODS DIM LIGHT COVERED WITH DIRT AND TRAGEDY- OH MY!_

Leo throws another bomb behind them as they run even faster. The two teens already know that their only option is to make it to Festus in order to run away. Neither of them is in a position to fight -  Apollo’s busy holding Meg and trying not to collapse on himself, and Leo is way too stressed to pull something useful out of his tool belt.

The ceiling above them rumbles, and pieces of rock crumble to the ground. Apollo can hear the yelling of the upcoming threat of soldiers. He hugs Meg closer and sprints faster.

The ceiling caves in front of them and it’s Nero is his Italian suit glory. Oh, how Apollo hates how good he looks. As soon as he gets Meg to safety, he will buy a custom made tuxedo to feel a bit more dashing.

Sweat slides down Apollo’s neck as the army the emperor had originally called catches up and surrounds the demigods into a tightly knit circle. For the love of Hera (gross), his life sucks.

“You can’t escape,” Nero says. His two guards, Gary and Vince, stand ready for orders, at each side of him.“The Oracle will awake soon.”

“Not if I can help it,” Apollo calls back, and Leo blows a raspberry at them.

“Ah, well.” Nero waves his hand dismissively. “It is fine, there are other ways. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. The easy way? Give up yourself and the girl, Apollo.”

“Why does every bad guy ask if we want the hard way?” Leo mutters under his breath. Apollo eyes him, letting the son of Hephaestus think. From what the previous god has seen of his half-brother, Hephaestus, the guy needs time to come up with a genius idea.

“What’s the other option?” Apollo glares.

Nero looks amused. “The Beast will destroy you. _I_ will destroy you, and enjoy it.” 

Apollo stares down at Meg. The girl looks too peaceful like she isn’t in the middle of a battle and rather in the comfortable heated seats of Festus. This girl has been abused by the Beast for far too long. If Apollo could avoid anything else from happening, he will try his damn best too.

“If you kill us,” Apollo’s only giving time now. _Leo, hurry up and think already_. Apollo is _so_ not going to die because some kid needs more time to think. “Then how will you get to the Oracle? All you bad guys are the same, too dumb to think.”

Nero’s lip curls into a sneer. “True, you are correct, killing you will be enjoyable but have no purpose. But I did not say I will  _kill_ you, did I? Mikey and Cade, if you will. They happened to find a… well, _precious_ thing of yours.”

Two of his lackeys step up, holding a protesting Calypso in their tight hold. She’s kicking and screaming and saying a few words that Apollo hopes he will never hear Meg ever say. They bring her to a kneel, and she glares defiantly. Apollo hopes the blood soaking through Calypso's white shirt isn't hers.

Besides him, Leo tenses and says a few more words that Apollo hopes Meg will never say. His hands fly to his toolbelt before an arrow spirals towards his head. Leo dodges, and the tip slices his cheek. 

“Hands on your head.” One of the various soldiers pokes Leo with the butt of his spear.

Nero circles around Calypso, as cheetah print handcuffs with pink fur clasp her wrists together. “She’s your friend, maybe  _more_ , Apollo? It would be a pity if I were to kill her right here. And Cade, what did I tell you about the kinky stuff? Keep it out of my plans, I did _not_ wait centuries just for your BDSM.”

"Sorry, sir." He does not sound very sorry.

“Don’t kill her!” Leo yells and gets punched in the gut. The wind is taken out of him, and Calypso is livid. Heck, Apollo probably looks pretty annoyed too. “ _Mamacita_.”

The Emperor leers at Calypso and runs a ring heavy hand through her hair. “Hmm, she’s very pretty. Perhaps I shall get a concubine. You’re Calypso if I’m not mistaken. The girl from that island? How in the world did you get off?”

Calypso grits her teeth, and turns away from him. Nero is displeased and grabs her by the hair roughly. “Listen here girlie, I will  _not_ take such disrespect from you. Hope you said your goodbyes.”

If he has to be honest, Apollo probably did the most embarrassing thing out of all the events that happen in the next thirty seconds. He’ll probably look back on it one day, on his flat screen TV, and go _“Wow, what an idiot_.”

The first thing that happens in the quick chain of events is the explosion from behind. Immediately debris comes flying, and the army flies towards the source in hopes of keeping their ruler safe from any outside sources. Another bomb sets off shortly. 

At that same moment, Calypso kicks her leg out at Nero's shins. He falls to the ground, smashing his nose into hard rocks. She also headbutts Nero’s bodyguards. 

While all this is happening, Leo elbows the nearest guy in the groin and smashes a small hammer into the ears of anyone close by. He yells something at Apollo and starts running.

And Apollo? Well, he trips over his own shoelaces. He blames Tyche.

In the smoke, he feels hands pulling at him on each shoulder. They help him and the sleeping Meg up, as they run. Apollo’s face grows hot as Leo laughs at him, and Calypso coughs with a smile. His coordination is a bit off, but he follows his partners.

The trio run through smoke and jumbled railroad tracks, in search of the opening where Festus lies. It’s an open space of light the surrounds the dragon, from when he crashed through the ceiling. A literal light at the end of the tunnel.

“Almost there,” Apollo glances behind him to find a look of pure hatred bubbling on Nero’s face. The Emperor is red with fury and points a crooked finger at the group, as blood drips from his nose.

“ _DON’T LET THEM ESCAPE! AFTER THEM!_ ” Spittle flies from his mouth, and the remainder of his followers charges with a battle cry.

“Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.” Leo rushes everyone to the side of the metal dragon and pushes everyone up. “Hurry up, or we might not make it in time for lunch. I think _we’re_ going to be lunch if we don’t go.”

There are only three seats, which leaves an awkward closeness that no one is too bothered with. They had other problems to deal with, like the hundreds of arrows coming towards them right now.

Festus’ wing lifts up to catch most of the arrows. The rest, thankfully, fly over and don’t hit anyone.

“C’mon, baby,” Leo rubs Festus’ neck and messes with the control panel. “Take us out of here.”

With a jolt, Festus takes quicks steps. His wingspan is too big to open underground, so he jumps and creates yet another hole in the streets of Indianapolis. If Apollo was a different person, he would’ve yelled sorry to the cars that get knocked over or falls into either of the two gaping holes that are so close to each other.

Honestly, for the sake of Indiana traffic, Festus totally could’ve gone through the hole they originally made.

“Watch out below!” Calypso yells a warning as a shower of arrows shoots towards them.

Apollo sees the arrow that gets stuck in between the golden plating of Festus' wing before he sees anything else. He ducks down to cover his head and hopes for the best. Not exactly the best thing he could do in a split second, but it’s safe enough.

The arrow that gets stuck stops Festus’ wing from functioning properly. Not only does it keep the machine from flying, but it also stops the wing shield from a few minutes ago to come back up. 

Arrows sting and scrape his left side and across his back. He makes a mental note not to shoot animals purely for fun now. This  _hurts_ , and he’s barely got hit.

Smoke drifts from what Apollo assumes would be the dragon’s armpit. They are dangerously getting closer and closer to the ground.

“ _Leo_!” Calypso screams, and the boy steers Festus in a last ditch effort to keep them from crashing into a small lake. Festus is spiraling down to green and lush hills dotted with flowers. 

Leo yells and Festus collides to the ground with a loud _OOMPH!_ Steam pours out, and the teenagers tumble out and roll down the hill.

Apollo stares at the darkening sky with exasperation. Every inch of his body aches and he doesn’t feel like he can get back up again. He honestly can't believe a demigod would _willing_ do this type of stuff for the good of humanity. If saving the world means grass stains and pain, Apollo would gladly let the world die with a clean conscience in his sun chariot.

With a creak of his neck, he can see Meg curled up and still sleeping. For the love of the gods, that child  _has_ to be a Hypnos child. To his other side, he sees the forms of Calypso and Leo lying on the ground. His heart aches because he’s not sure if they’re alive, but he’s confident in their abilities.

Apollo stares at the setting sun. “I swear, Artemis, if I die today you will _not_ be getting my iPod.”

As if to answer, Apollo feels something nibbling at his ankle. With as much effort as he could summon he looks down to see a rabbit staring back at him. _Thanks for the food sis._

The bunny blinks and hops away. Apollo frowns and narrows his eyes to the moon covered by clouds. “That’s no iPod _and_ no arrows.”

Apollo hears the sound of the annoying voice he missed so dearly instead.

“You look like hell.” Meg says bluntly, blinking behind smashed lens. Her hands brush over Apollo’s body cautiously to check for damage.

“Hella fine,” Apollo laughs weakly. Gods, his chest hurts. Meg tries to help him sit up, which is a slow effort. “I’ll be fine, I think. Check on Cals and Leo.” 

“Who?” Meg swings her head before narrowing on the two forms not too far away. “Those blobs?”

“Yes, those blobs,” Apollo says. He runs a hand through his hair, and it comes out bloody. He had hit his head earlier in the ambush, but he didn’t think he hit it this hard. He might have a concussion or is need of stitches, but it’s hard to tell. 

“There’s an arrow in this dude’s butt. Do I pull it out?” Meg hollers. “And her stomach is scraped real bad.”

“Do _not_ pull that arrow out, McCaffrey.” Apollo groans. “Lie Calypso on her back.”

Apollo doesn’t feel like he can stand, so he forces himself to crawl over to Meg. She sits in between the two and is rolling both Calypso and Leo onto their backs. Both are knocked unconscious which Apollo mentally links to blood loss or shock.

“Um,” Apollo’s head is pounding, and he is now  _really_ sure about that concussion. He grunts as he lays back down. “I think I’m going to go to sleep now. Wrap their wounds if you can.”

Meg shakes Apollo, but he’s too out of it to even care. He believes in her capabilities and hopes his doctor lifestyle has rubbed off on her.

Who was he kidding? Calypso and Leo are about as good as dead now.

 

* * *

 

Apollo wakes up to getting poked with a stick by a little tiny demon baby known as Peaches.

“Peaches!” The demon-baby mutters in delight. For a second, Apollo thinks the  _karpos_ missed him, until the evil thing bites his finger. Apollo really wishes he had his power to smite the creature down. 

“You’re awake.” That’s Calypso’s voice. The girl is leaning with her back against Festus, and her legs spread out in front of her. “Good. We need to treat these wounds now. Before we die.”

“What?” Apollo blinks his sleepiness away to survey the scene. Meg is tending the fire burning as the smell of meat wafts into the air. Leo is sitting up next to Calypso, arrow still stuck in the side of his left tailbone. A ransacked first aid kit lays on the ground. “How long was I out?”

“Not even five minutes,” Leo smirks weakly. He looks pale but relatively calm. “Dude, how did you not hear Meg yelling at you? I think even China is sending their response letter to her now.”

Apollo shrugs. Even if it’s only been a few minutes, he feels a bit less nauseated. He crawls his way closer to the older teens. “What’s the more dangerous wound?”

“Calypso.” Leo stares at the girl’s stomach. Her torso is wrapped heavily with gauze that has blood seeping through. Definitely serious. Calypso didn’t look too hot either. “She said she was feeling dizzy and tired.”

“I’m a heck of a lot better than you.” Calypso mumbles. "Target practice over here doesn't realize I'm a  _Titan_ , and can deal with a little pain."

"Target practice?" Leo strokes his butt-arrow carefully. "That's cold, babe."

Apollo curses under his breath. He pulls the female into his arms to unbind her waist. When the gauze stops unraveling, there’s a nasty slash of skin peeled off. He figures she was either mistreated in the hand of Nero’s dumb lackeys or scraped herself against one of Festus’ plates. Neither sounds great, and either option would lead to either Meg or Leo feeling terrible. 

Everytime Apollo moves away, her shirt falls back over the wound. Calypso notices the annoying bit too.

“Just rip my shirt off,” She says. “It’s ruined anyway.”

Both Apollo and Leo’s faces burn red. Apollo shakes his head furiously, and Leo’s body heat increases noticeably. Apollo is  _so_ not going to strip a pretty girl. Apollo is  _so_ not going to strip _Calypso_.

“Uh,” Is all he can really say. His teenage mind is very efficient at not doing anything but think about pretty girls. As a god, his hormones were up to his own control (not that he really controlled them) but as a teenage boy? Yeah, _no_.

Calypso moves to tear it herself. The once-white shirt tears down the center, making an odd blood-stained jacket. Her bra’s black, which is probably something Apollo should  _not_ be thinking about, considering Calypso is probably going to die in the next ten minutes or so.

Leo stares, unabashedly. Even Apollo wishes he had that amount of zero shame. Apollo drags his eyes to Leo and smiles. He has a sort of idea to keep Calypso fine for as long as they might need.

“How are you feeling, Leo?” Leo stares at Apollo like he’s crazy.

He gestures wildly at Calypso. “And people say _I_ have attention problems? Is she not bleeding away her life?”

“Probably,” Apollo admits. “But we might need to cauterize it. Can you pass some alcohol?”

“What?” Leo repeats dumbly.

Calypso grunts, and gives Leo her left hand to hold. “He wants you to burn it. Y’know.”

“I know what cauterize means,” Leo snaps back. “But like, why?”

Calypso raises an eyebrow. “Why are you arguing? Do you _want_ me to die?”

“ _No_ , but I don’t want to burn you!”

Apollo rubs his temples as their voices get louder. He needs some more patience and time. It’s like neither of them realizes just how vulnerable they are.

“Do you need my help?” Meg calls out from the fire.

“No thanks! Just stay over there.” Apollo doesn’t want her to see this. If it wasn’t for the fact that Apollo is playing doctor, he would be curled up and covering his eyes and ears. He turns to the other two annoyances of his life. “You two, shut up. Let’s just do this and then get to Leo’s butt.”

“You would  _love_ to get to Leo’s butt. Too late, got to it first, but I don't mind sharing with you.” Calypso admits, much to the chagrin of both males. Her arms fold over her chest, pulling Leo’s arm with her. Leo’s face is the matching tomato to Apollo’s face. "Well, what did you  _think_ happened for six months? Charades? Cards-"

Apollo dumps alcohol on her wound. Calypso hisses with a jerk and glares. “ _Defensive_ _much_?”

“Sorry,” Apollo shrugs. He’s a bit sadistic and desperately wants to make sure his team- group- friends?- _whatevers_ are fine. “Leo, now, I need you to take three fingers and drag it against her wound, okay?”

Leo digs around in his toolbelt, before pulling out an apple. Calypso gladly shoves it in her mouth. Her right hand reaches out for Apollo, who squeezes it reassuringly.

Leo’s fingers light up, and he looks sick. He stares at Apollo as he brings his fingers to Calypso’s side.

“Ready, babe?” Leo doesn’t even dare to look at her and keeps his eyes on Apollo. Calypso mumbles something that sounds vicious, and Apollo nods towards Leo.

Leo presses his fingers down onto flesh. Calypso’s screaming is hardly muffled.

Apollo winces as his hand is squeezed tighter. He holds eye contact with Leo only because he does  _not_ need the kid to mess up and burn Calypso. He trusts Leo more than his own shaky and nervous hands, and does not want that decision to go up in flames. Figuratively and literally.

“Keep going.” Apollo swallows. He doesn’t want to hear Calypso in pain, but he knows it would be better than her being silenced forever. “... Alright, you’re good.”

Leo’s hand snaps away from Calypso who spits out the apple and lets out a weak cry under harsh breathing. Her teeth leaves heavily indented marks into the red apple. 

“You should be good for a while.” Apollo breathes a sigh of release and pours a bit more alcohol on the healing wound. He accepts the gauze from Leo’s trembling hand and tries his best to comfortable wrap it around her. “It’s going to hurt to move around but you should feel better in the morning.”

“That’s nice,” Calypso sounds far off. She adjusts her bra and stares at Leo. “Your turn.”

“¿Ah, _ahorita_?” Leo looks queasy. “I think I kind of like having this in my butt.”

Apollo gives a tiny push to the arrow and Leo howls. He winces. “Okay, maybe I should take it out.”

“Pass some scissors, we have to cut your pants. Can you also pull out orange juice?” Apollo’s trying to figure out how to best take out the arrow. He obviously can’t yank it out- that would cause more problems than any of them need. Normally, whenever Apollo shoots an arrow it goes where he aims, so he never really dealt with this before.

Leo gets blue scissors and a carton of orange juice from his toolbelt. The magical item never ceased to amaze him. Calypso sips on orange juice, snickering as Apollo tries to cut through Leo’s cargo pants and a bit of boxers. He has to roll on his stomach, and stay on his forearms and knees for Apollo to do anything. 

“Don’t cut off his- _y’know_. It’s the only thing shorter than him.” Calypso snorts and Leo twists his body to yell at her. Apollo blames her comments on the six months spent with, well, _Leo_. However, he did know her to be rather bitter after Odysseus, so he would take this rather than that  _gorgon_ of a lady from what seems like a couple millennia ago.

“I have an idea but I’m not too sure about it. I’ve only seen it once in the 90’s with U.S. Grant. At least I think it was the 90's. He was an angry but groovy dude, to be expected of a Nike kid.” Apollo says quickly. He ignores Leo’s protests. He gently presses Leo’s face into the grass and pretends like he knows what he’s about to do. “Shhh. At least it’s not too deep in and doesn’t seem to hit anything major. Do you have gloves?”

Blue gloves slap their way onto Apollo’s fingers. He’s a bit disgusted with himself - he should’ve gotten these earlier. He is a pitiful excuse for a god of medicine. “Calypso, hold his hand. He might be a baby about this.”

“Huh?” Calypso had been on the edge of nodding off.

Apollo cuts off more of Leo’s boxers and stares at the reddened skin. He has to work quicker to avoid any infections. Apollo pushes his finger along the arrow and into the wound.

Hearing Leo’s screaming is unnerving, but it motivates Apollo to work faster. He has to find the tip of the arrow to carefully pull it out. Then he would treat it like a relatively normal laceration. It takes a couple of seconds but Apollo’s done.

The wound is a bit bigger now, but it doesn’t seem to need stitches. He wraps Leo’s side with gauze quickly. Then Apollo throws his gloves, collapses, and gives out the biggest sigh of relief he has ever given in  _decades_.

Leo’s whining about his rear end, and Calypso is on the edge of dreamland. Apollo, himself, is exhausted. He hears Meg chattering to Peaches about dragons.

He’s worried about the girl. It took a couple of weeks for Apollo, Calypso, and Leo to come in on their majestic steed of a mechanical dragon. He’s sure that Meg’s “stepfather” was a little less than nice with her. Apollo fears for what might’ve happened in his absence. At least now he can protect her. And probably with the help of the other two, considering how hopeless they are without him.

Apollo stares at Calypso and Leo. The two are quiet now, all cuddly and sweet next to each other. It sends a weird feeling tumbling into Apollo’s chest. He passes it off for the concussion (which he does mentally confirm).

He does wonder what the two are planning on doing next. They hadn’t gotten to the final third of the country, better known as the West Coast. Leo would probably go there to see his friends. Would they stay there? Apollo hears that New Rome is always welcome, and now accepts even their Greek counterparts. As much as he doesn’t want to admit, these two  _mean_ something to him. He has a sinking feeling of  _what_ but will choose to stuff it down under all his thoughts.

Believe it or not, Calypso, Meg, and Leo are people precious to Apollo. His sister (and a whole bunch of other  _losers_ ) used to call Apollo selfish and conceited. However, these three  _annoyances_ slithered their way into his heart somehow.

It’s nice. Apollo gets the appeal of Camp Half-Blood now. The sense of familiarity, of love, and of togetherness. As much as it sounds like a  _Disney_ movie, Apollo likes it.

“I killed a rabbit,” Meg whispers into the night. “You can have the leg.”

She waves a charred piece of meat that Apollo graciously accepts. Peaches has disappeared, and Apollo honestly does not care about the rude thing.

"Here's to surviving," Apollo raises the drumstick. Meg knocks a rib against it, and whines when a good chunk falls to the ground.

The rabbit meat melts to ashes in his mouth, but it has a tiny bit of flavor. He’s not sure why they’re eating rabbit, or  _where_ the rabbit came from (although he has a sinking feeling it's the bunny Artemis had sent). Apollo is sure that Leo probably could’ve whipped something up for them.

Apollo pushes back his dizziness to slide next to Calypso. He stares at Meg and pats the space next to him. “Are you coming?”

Meg looks uneasy. “I’m not going to mess up whatever  _that_ is. You have something going on there and I’m not involved in it.”

Apollo’s cheeks feel warm, and he disregards what Meg is implying. “You still need to sleep. Over here is probably the best for right now.”

Meg shifts on one foot. “I’m not tired. My stepfather was… exhausting. I think I need some time to think.”

Meg McCaffrey never thinks. Apollo frowns. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Meg averts her eyes. “I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

“Mhm,” Apollo slides down to lay with the other two. As much as the sleep wants to take over, his head is still buzzing with questions.

“And Apollo,” Meg finally says. He can practically  _feel_ her buzzing with excitement. “That was so _cool_.”

Apollo doesn’t know  _what_ part was cool, considering his life is currently a jumbled mess of confusion and frustration. “Get to sleeping McCaffrey.” 

He hears a response but he’s already mentally blocking out the world. Apollo figures he’ll need his sleep for tomorrow.

In the morning he’ll figure things out. He has yet to finish his quest of saving the world from the truimvirate of reject emperors. He’ll make everything better. Then, they’ll figure what to do from here.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you, have a nice day!!! :D


End file.
